


jealousy's one hell of a drug

by pulisics



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Memories, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 00:16:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15327543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pulisics/pseuds/pulisics
Summary: “Dragi…” He started softly and finally took Dejan's hand, intertwining their fingers. “Look at me.”orin which šime and dejan are both stupidly in love with each other but too stupid to do something about it





	jealousy's one hell of a drug

**Author's Note:**

> i cannot believe that there are no šime/dejo fics. they're soulmates. also i'm sad and salty about the wc being over and i know that we won't be able to see these two together anymore so... 
> 
> you can find all of the translation in the end notes

Something was wrong with Dejan. Ever since they finished the celebration in Zagreb he has been a little bit more distant, which was nothing like the Dejan that Šime knew. He refused to hold Šime's hand when they walked back, didn't sit next to him in the bus and only talked to him when he absolutely needed to. Dejan was usually very clingy and the cold behavior wasn't something that Šime was used to.

Šime was really worried. He tried to rewind the whole day in his memories and remember if he did anything wrong. He remembered standing next to Dejan on the bus fence, way before he moved up front to sit with the other boys on the roof of the bus. 

Dejan was also pretty normal during their time on stage. He didn't joke with Šime as much as he usually did but he still smiled when Šime took the microphone to tease him, so the curly player figured that everything was alright. It was probably the alcohol. 

Šime was driving to Zadar with the rest of the Zadar squad tomorrow, they were supposed to leave immediately, like Rebic, Perisic, Lovre and some others did, but Dejan offered to let them sleep at his old house until the morning and, considering how half of them were drunk out of their minds, they figured that waiting until the morning would be the best idea.

The house was pretty familiar to Šime and this definitely wasn’t his first time sleeping there. He looked around and his heart started aching when the memories from 9 years ago started coming back. One would say that they were only kids back then and, in comparison to their present selves, they really were.

Their friendship started with small visits, usually to bring something while the other was injured, then it turned into coffee dates and sleepovers, shy and quiet sentences became loud, teasing and flirty, while small, innocent, barely there touches turned into something way bigger. 

Šime looked at the old couch and could clearly see the memories of a much younger version of him laying on Dejan's lap while the other played with his hair. He could see them fighting, his eyes turning wide and lips forming a pout, Dejan's look softening and him rushing to kiss Šime's pouty lips. Šime chuckled softly, remembering how that look worked on Dejan even today. He could see himself laying down with his injured leg propped up, Dejan bringing him his favourite chocolate and painkillers and putting ice on his swollen ankle. He always refused to let Šime stay alone when he was injured, so whenever that happened, Dejan’s house became his second home.

He shook his head and silently laughed to himself. His love for Dejan was still as strong as before and he wished that things could go back to the way they were before. He wanted to go back and be as happy and as careless as his teen self. Wanted to be able to lay next to Dejan every night, to have Dejan hold him, play with his hair, take care of him and love him. He knew that Dejan still did, but it wasn't the same. Dejan wasn't his. 

Šime climbed the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible. He reached the familiar door that lead to Dejan’s room and hesitated before knocking. He prayed to God that Dejan wasn't mad, that there wasn't an already made bed waiting for him in the guest room, and opened the door after a faint “Come in.”

There was a couple of sights that Šime lowkey expected to see, he was prepared for most of them, but this one was definitely different than anything he could've imagined. 

Dejan was sitting on his queen sized bed with his back against the headboard and his hands crossed over his chest. His face was stern and he had a look that could kill even the bravest person. His hair was messy and sticking up in every direction but it looked so good on him,  he was dressed in his boxer briefs only and Šime would be laying on the floor and begging God to take him and end his suffering right there and then if it wasn't for the most important thing. The song. Šime almost missed the soft melody, but Dejan was singing softly, which was a complete opposite to the hard glare that was  still pointed at Šime. 

 _“Nek te grli nek te ljubi…”_ He was looking straight at Šime as the the younger one started walking towards the bed  _“...nek te ljudi vide s njim.”_  Šime was pretty sure that Dejan actually scoffed after that line. He sat next to Dejan and slowly reached for his hand. 

 _“Ako to se zove ljubav, onda ja te ne volim.”_ Dejan's voice was softer now, more quiet. Šime's hand froze right when it was about to touch Dejan's. The song was still playing, but Dejan wasn't singing the rest. His head was tilted down and Šime could see him watching their hands from the corner of his eye.

“Dragi…” He started softly and finally took Dejan's hand, intertwining their fingers. “Look at me.” Dejan lifted his gaze too look at him and his look was a complete opposite from the cold one that he give Šime only a couple of seconds ago. “Why are you avoiding me?” Dejan’s expression softened, but he looked at their joined hands and moved his hand away from Šime. The cold look was back in the matter of seconds.

“Don't hold me like you held him!” Šime's eyes widened and he looked at his friend with a mix of sadness and confusion. He truly had no idea what the older man was talking about and he figured that Dejan was still drunk.

“Held who, dragi?” Dejan rolled his eyes as if the answer to that question was the most obvious thing.

“Vida. You held him the whole time.” That sentence was all it took for Šime to connect all of the dots and get a clear picture.

Šime was holding Domagoj at the bus because the poor man was way too drunk and fell down 8 times too many. He was acting like a five year old high on sugar and Šime did everything he could to stop him from falling. He did the same to the others and the others did the same to Domagoj, but Dejo probably saw how Šime kissed his cheek and how he held him around the waist and he figured that it didn't look as platonic as it was. 

Dejan was quiet and his expression wad neutral, but Šime was smiling from ear to ear. 

“Why are you looking at me like that, is this funny to you?” Šime simply touched Dejan's cheek and continued smiling at him.

“Dragi, I held Vida because he had way too many beers and fell down way too many times. I held him because I didn't want my friend to break a leg. I didn't hold him because I wanted to kiss him, because I wanted to hug him, be with him, love him.” He cupped Dejan's face and looked into his confused eyes. “I didn't hold him like I held you all those years ago, like I'm holding you right now.”

Dejan still looked confused, but there was a hint of smile on his lips. “Wait, you love me?” He asked, but judging by his smile that was now getting bigger, Šime was pretty sure that he already knew the answer.

“Well, I wanted to say that I do, but I remember you mentioning that you don't love me in that song an-" He didn't get to finish the sentence because he was interrupted by a soft pair of lips and he felt Dejan smile during the kiss.

Dejan's hands moved to the back of his head and he started playing with his hair and this time it was Šime who smiled into the kiss. _Of course Dejan still knew all of his weaknesses_. After a couple of seconds they finally broke the kiss and leaned on each other with their foreheads touching.

“You have no idea how much I missed your kisses.” Dejan whispered before pecking his lips one more time.

“Don't worry dragi, we have a lot of time to catch up.” Šime smiled innocently before pushing Dejan on the bed and climbing on his lap.

**Author's Note:**

> \- šime joined dinamo's first squad in december 2009 and dejan transferred from dinamo to lyon in january 2010 which means that they didn't play together at any point but for the sake of the story lets pretend that they did  
> \- šime was 18 at the time and dejan was 21  
> \- šime likes calling people "dragi" which is croatian for "dear/darling", as seen in his lives and instastories in general  
> \- the song mentioned is ako to se zove ljubav by tony cetinski  
> \- nek te grli nek te ljubi = let him hug you let him kiss you  
> \- nek te ljudi vide s njim = let the people see you with him  
> \- ako to se zove ljubav onda ja te ne volim = if that is called love then i don't love you


End file.
